Sing Me to Sleep
by Butterfly Betty
Summary: She's lost her muse. He's missing inspiration. When Bella and Edward meet, will they be able to heal the tattered pieces of their hearts? Or will they forever be alone?
1. Chapter 1

"Bella, table six is up," yelled my boss, Embry Call, from the kitchen.

"I'm coming," I yelled back. I shook my head and looked back to the people sitting in the booth in front of me. "Sorry about that. What can I get you today?"

"Do you have organic food here?" the girl asked. She was tall, thin, and needed to gain at least twenty pounds be at a healthy weight. Her impeccably styled hair and flawless make-up plastered made her look like a Barbie, perfect in every way.

"No," I scoffed, stifling the urge to roll my eyes. "This here's a grease joint. If you want healthy food, I would suggest you go look elsewhere, honey."

"Okay," she said, slowly.

Barbie shared a look with the Ken doll who was sitting across from her. Just like her, he had the perfectly styled blond hair, clear blue eyes, and fake smile. He wore an ironed red polo shirt, khaki shorts, and white tennis shoes that matched Barbie's red and white sundress. He shrugged his shoulders, clearing unwilling to make the decision for himself and leaving it to Barbie to decide.

"Bella!" Embry yelled again.

And once again, I waved him off and looked from Ken over to Barbie. "Well, what's it going to be?"

"I think we'll go someplace else." Barbie slid out of the booth, throwing me her fakest smile yet.

"Probably a good idea," I smarted off.

I shoved my order pad back into the apron of my blue and white checkered uniform and headed back around the corner. The door slammed shut as Ken and Barbie left. Embry was standing in the kitchen, scowling at me. Like it was my fault everything he served in his little diner was sure to clog the arteries and send a person into full cardiac arrest.

"Took you long enough, Bella," he spat, flipping a pancake.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, pulling the plates off the shelf and balancing them on my arm. "Get my order for table ten up or I'm sending the old man back here to bitch your ass out."

"Go ahead," he laughed as I walked away. "I ain't scared of that old man."

Embry Call was all talk and very little action. If the old man at table ten really did come back there to yell at him, he'd piss his pants and push him off onto me. That was why Embry worked in the kitchen and I worked in the front. The man had zero people skills at all.

"Here we go," I said, depositing the four plates onto table six. "Can I get you guys anything else?"

"No, I think we are good." Sam Uley, one of my regulars, looked around at their plates and smiled. "Thanks, B."

"Let me know," I said, grinning at him, his wife Emily and their two girls, Cassie and Bridget.

Sam worked security over at one of the casinos. I forget which one. Emily almost always brought the girls in to meet him for breakfast before they had to go to school. Of course, school was out for the summer so they didn't have to rush the way they normally would. Their girls were carbon-copies of their mother, from her long, silky jet black hair to her striking black eyes. Sam and Emily had come to Las Vegas to elope, and never left. Like so many people in the city seemed to.

Walking back around the counter, I picked up the order for table number ten. I grabbed the pot of coffee on my way over to his table and slid his plate in front of him. The old man was slouched over the table, wearing a dark suit that was at least two decades old and smelled of mothballs. His dark brown hair was matted down to his head, several streaks of silver mixed in, but the rest of him was very clean, something I could tell he took great pride in.

"It's about time," he groused, turning the plate full of eggs, bacon, and hash browns around in a full circle. It was a crazy tradition that he'd done every morning of the last two years that I have been waiting on him.

"Embry was being extra slow today," I told him, ignoring his mean demeanor. I was used it. "You should go yell at him."

"Just pour me some more damn coffee," he grumbled, shoving his half empty cup toward me.

"I was going to," I said, coolly. I filled up his cup and moved it back to where he always wanted it. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No, just let me eat," he muttered.

Inwardly, I sighed and headed back behind the counter. The old man picked up his fork and closed his eyes, saying a short blessing before shoveling the food into his mouth. Every morning was the same. He walked in around ten in the morning, sat at the same table, and either stared out the window or read the paper while he waited for his food. By now, I knew better now than to even ask what he wanted. I just turned in the order of two eggs, two pieces of bacon, and an order of hash browns before I took him his cup of black coffee. He'd grunt, but never said thank you. The old man would eat his food, push his plate away, toss twenty dollars on the table, and leave. His order only cost him a little over five bucks so I kept the rest as a tip. That was just the way the old man did things.

The rest of my shift went by in much of the same way. The old man left his money sitting on the table, Sam and Emily left with the girls giggling in front of them, and I went back to waiting on mindless morons who'd drunk too much the night before and lost all, but the few bucks in their pockets. Instead of using it to find a way back home, they chose to use in this shit hole.

Once the clock struck five, I clocked out and headed back to my apartment. My feet were killing me from spending the last twelve hours busting tables and all I wanted to do was put them up and get lost in my painting. I stumbled into my danky apartment and shut the door behind me. The small one bedroom apartment was nothing more than shoebox, but it was mine.

I changed out of my work uniform, hanging it on my wire hanger, and placing it on the small nail on the back of my bedroom door. Tomorrow would be another day in the salt mines and I would once again don the outfit and go back to the diner. For now, however, I slipped on a ratty T-shirt and made my back into my living room, settling on the stool that sat in front of my easel. While staring at the blank canvas, I prayed for inspiration to hit, however it never did.

My muse was gone.

**EPOV**

"Another round for the VIP's," Alice Brandon hollered, laying her tray on the bar.

I sighed and started pouring shots of tequila into ten shot glasses. Placing them on her tray, I cocked an eyebrow at her. "How many is this for them?"

"Six, seven, eight," she said, waving her hand in the air. "I don't fucking know and I don't fucking care."

I laughed as I placed the last glass on her tray. Alice muttered another series of four letter words under her breath as she lifted her tray and sashayed her way through the crowd, putting more sway in her hips than was needed. Alice Brandon was a tiny thing, barely standing five foot two and weighted about a hundred pounds, but you did not want to get on her bad side. She had a quick temper, a quick right hook, and sharp nails that she wasn't afraid to use.

I watched her until she disappeared into the VIP room of the bar she and I worked in together. Murphy's Law was considered one of the best places to come and get a cheap drink, live it up for a while, or just get your ass so drunk that you won't remember what you did the night before.

If only it was so easy.

My attention was pulled from the bachelor's party that Alice was currently serving when someone on the other end of the bar yelled for another beer. Sighing to myself, I pulled the beer out of the ice and took it to him, taking his five bucks and ignoring his mutter about how expensive they were. If you want cheap beer, go down the street to one of the joints that water theirs down. The sole purpose here was to get assholes drunk. Period.

"I swear to God, if one more drunk man grabs my ass," Alice muttered, slamming her tray back down onto my bar. "I'm going to bury my nails in some fucker's eye."

"Do I need to go back and have a conversation?" I asked, seriously.

"No, I can handle them," she said, waving me off. "I just don't understand why, when a man is getting married, they would get shit-faced drunk and palm the ass of their waitress the night before. Don't they have any kind of conscience?"

"Nope," Emmett McCarty snickered, coming over and tapping his nails on the bar. "Of course, you do have ass, Ally-Cat."

"Fuck off, meathead." Alice laughed, and smacked him in the back of the head. She looked over at me. "Give me another round for the assholes."

"Last round, shorty," I told her, pouring the drinks.

"I know, I know," she said, loading them onto her tray.

Emmett waited until Alice, left, watching her shake her ass, before he turned to me. "Edward, man, can you cover the rest of my shift? There's a blond over at Cassidy's and she's fucking hot. She said she'd go out with me tonight, if you get my drift"

I rolled my eyes.

"Fine but you owe me, Em," I said, pointing at him. "I will collect."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he yelled, already halfway to the door.

"You're a sucker, Edward," Alice laughed, coming back to the bar.

I snorted. "Tell me something I don't know."

By the time we locked the doors for the night, Alice and I had served hundreds of drinks and called three taxis to come pick up the drunks. She changed out of her tighter-than-skin jeans she'd been wearing into a shorter-than-should-be-legal black, leather skirt and headed out, talking about some blackjack dealer at one of the casinos. I forget which one.

I re-stocked the bar before I headed out the back to where my motorcycle sat, hidden in the shadows. Pulling on my helmet, I headed down the strip toward my apartment. I walked up to the trashy one-bedroom apartment I rented for way too much money and locked all three locks behind me. Tossing my keys into my helmet and shuffling into the bedroom, I stripped off the clothes I'd been wearing and pulled on a pair of flannel pants.

I made my way into the living room and settled down in front of the second hand piano I bought at an estate sale for two hundred bucks. Looking down at the ivory and black keys, I waited for inspiration to hit me. But as usual, all I could do was stare.

My inspiration was gone.

**So, this is something that I've had up before, but put it on hold when I struggled with writer's block on it. I opted to pull it, clean it up, and make a few alterations to the storyline.**


	2. Chapter 2

**BPOV**

"Bella," the most annoying voice I had ever heard sang. "Bella, get your lazy ass up, girl!"

"Fuck off," I muttered, rolling over on my piece-of-shit couch.

"Get up, get up, get up, get up," Carlisle Cullen chanted, sitting on me and bouncing up and down. "GET UP!"

"Get the fuck off of me." I laughed and pushed him onto his ass. I scrambled off the couch, knowing that he wouldn't stop until I was up. "You're so annoying."

"And you are a lazy bitch," he quipped, flopping down where I had just been laying. "You're going to be late for your shift again."

"Shit," I spat, rushing into my bedroom and stripping of the T-shirt I had been wearing. "What the hell are you doing here anyway?"

"I just got off," he said from my couch.

"Long night?" I asked, walking back into the living room as I buttoned up my uniform.

"Very." Carlisle sat up, stretching out his muscles. "But when are they not here in Vegas?"

"No shit."

I stepped up in front of the wall mirror that hung on the back of my apartment door, pulling my long, mahogany hair into a ponytail. Carlisle stood up off the couch, moved behind me, and slipped his arms around my waist, leaning his chin on my shoulder. I brought my hand up, stroking his cheek. He was a devastatingly, good looking man with honey blond hair and bright blue eyes. Only today, he had dark, purple bags hanging under them.

"You look tired," I murmured. "When was the last time you slept?"

"A couple of days ago." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Can't shut work off, you know?"

"You can't let them get to you," I said, quietly.

Carlisle smiled as he turned and pressed his lips to the side of my neck.

"I know," he whispered. "You had better get going. I'll see you later."

Turning in his arms, I leaned up on my toes and pressed my lips to his cheek. "Try to sleep. For me."

"I'll try," he promised.

Carlisle went down to his own apartment while I headed down the hallway to the stairs. He and I had moved into the building around the same time and became quick friends — only friends. One drunken night had proven that we were only meant to be friends. We had just drunk down our sixth or seventh shot of tequila when Carlisle leaned over, crushing his lips down onto mine. It felt like kissing my brother, if I had a brother. We agreed to never speak of that night again.

Carlisle worked at a small medical clinic, mostly treating the homeless and the people who came in begging for him to work a miracle. He didn't get paid for his work, but whenever I pressed him about why he stayed, he got a dark look in his eye and said that he deserved nothing more. I knew him well enough to let it go and not push for more. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of us; I didn't ask him about his past and he didn't ask me about mine. Carlisle was what I liked to call an old soul, helping the helpless and all that bullshit.

"It's about time you got here," Embry snarled as I walked into the diner.

I ignored him and made my way to the back, hanging up my messenger bag. Tying my apron around my waist, I grabbed my order pad and clocked in. Picking up the pot of coffee, I started my rounds, making sure that everyone had a full cup and that they had everything that they needed. When I'd poured out the last drop, I walked back around the counter and started a fresh pot.

The morning rush passed quickly and I got everyone served, ignoring the smart-ass comments coming from Embry about me being late and him having to do my job for me. He liked to threaten to fire me, but he never did and he never would. He couldn't run this place without me. It was a simple fact that we both knew.

"Bella, I need you to cover the night shift tonight," Embry said, coming up to the front. I slammed my order pad on the counter and glared at him. "Don't look at me like that. Jessica just called and said she had enough and that she was going back to Iowa or Kentucky, whatever hole in the hell she crawled up out of. I need you to cover the night shift until I can find someone."

"Fine, but you had better not jip me on my check," I snapped as the door opened and the old man came in.

I picked up my order pad and wrote out the old man's order, shoving it into Embry's hand. He ignored me as he walked into the back to start his order. I picked up a coffee cup and the fresh pot of coffee and walked over to his table, filling it to the brim and sliding it front of him. The old man pretended I wasn't standing there as he reached over, grabbing the sugar and dumping an unhealthy amount into the cup.

"Hasn't anyone told you that sugar is bad for you?" I asked, leaning against the booth, opposite of him.

"Hasn't anyone told you to mind your damn business?" he groused.

I shook my head and pushed off the booth.

"More than once," I said. "Didn't mean I listened."

"Apparently," he muttered.

Knowing that was all I was going to get out of the old man, I turned and headed back over to my other customers, refilling their coffee and clearing away empty plates. Once the old man's order was ready, I delivered it to the table and watched as he went through his crazy routine. As he did every day, he left his twenty dollar bill on the table and left without a word to anyone.

The day wore on and Embry spent most of it on the phone trying to talk one of his bimbo, slut friends into coming to work for him. They all knew he was a prick and told him no. By the middle of the afternoon, he had stormed out of the diner, muttering something about needing a drink. I didn't see him for the rest of the day.

I was in the middle of my second shift when the door opened and a big, brawny guy came in, holding a little tiny woman on his back. They were both laughing about some kind of private joke. I groaned thinking that they were drunk off their asses as I made my way over and stood at the end of the booth they had slid into.

The big guy — curly brown hair and puppy dog brown eyes — flashed me his dimple-filled smile, and gave me the once over. I rolled my eyes; so fucking typical.

"I'm going to tell you right now, the grill is closed," I said, dryly. "I've got coffee, tea, soda, and water. There's pie, and that's about it."

"Oh, what kind of pie?" The woman asked, her eyes flying wide. She was tiny compared to Dimples. Her long jet back hair had been accented with wild blue streaks throughout; a look only she could pull off. Her eyes were dark, soulful, and reminded me of the paintings I'd found in a book in the library when I was a little girl — back when things weren't hard, when life hadn't sucked.

Shaking my head, I pushed those thoughts out of my head.

"Apple, cherry, and peach," I replied.

"I'll take some cherry pie," she said, dreamily. "Can I have that a la mode?"

"Sure thing." I sighed and looked back at Dimples. "And for you?"

"Which one would you suggest, sweetheart?" he smirked, winking at me. "Apple or Peach?"

"Apple," I droned, ignoring his wink. "The peach has been in there for a week."

"Fuck, guys, did you order without me?"

At the sound of the silky voice, I turned toward the door. The man coming barreling his way inside stopped and stared, his deep green eyes penetrating straight to my soul. Tall thin, he was beyond gorgeous, he was sexy as fuck. His auburn hair called for me to run my fingers through it, begging me and he had incredible lips — kissable, suckable lips. He was wearing a pair of dark, tight-fitting jeans that showcased his fit, toned body, a black T-shirt that clung to him, and a black leather motorcycle jacket. He brought his hand up, running it through his hair, and shifting his eyes away from mine. I took a deep breath as I turned and looked back at Dimples.

"So what's it going to be?" I asked, softly.

"I think I'll take your sage advice and take the apple," he laughed. "A la mode, of course."

"Sure, no problem," I murmured. Biting my lip, I turned and looked at Green Eyes. He was still just standing there, watching me, staring at me. His fingers tapped against the side of his leg. "And for you?"

"Um," Green eyes said, clearing his throat. He turned and looked back at the door. "I've gotta . . . go."

Trailing off, he turned and walked out of the diner.

"That dirty motherfucker," Cherry Pie muttered. "It was his turn to buy!"

"I'll buy this time," Dimples said, patting Cherry Pie on the top of her head. "We'll just make sure he pays for this later." Dimples looked back up at me. "We'll take two cups of coffee, too, sweetheart."

"Do I look like your sweetheart, Dimples?" I snarled, shoving my order pad into my apron. Dimples' eyes grew wide as he shook his head. "Then don't call me that."

"Yes, ma'am," he snickered.

"She's feisty," Cherry Pie cackled.

I ignored them both as I went back to the other side of the counter and started getting their pie and ice cream. My hands were trembling, and I didn't understand why.

"Hey, girl, you got some music in here?" Cherry Pie asked, climbing out of the booth. She didn't wait for Dimples to stand up. No, she climbed over him, shoving her perky little ass in his face. "We need some tunes."

Without a word, I went over and flipped on the radio. The station was playing some hip-hop song that I'd never heard before, not that it meant anything. I rarely listened to music, choosing to allow the silence to wrap around me.

Cherry Pie squealed as she pulled Dimples out of the booth and started shaking her ass in front of him. He groaned, grabbing her hips and pulling her flush against him. Cherry Pie brought her hands up, grabbed his head, and wove her fingers into his dark curly hair.

"Damn, Emmett," she laughed, rubbing her body all over him. "You sure as fuck know how to move."

"You ain't too bad yourself." Dimples, or Emmett, moaned, sliding his arms around her waist. "Fuck, Ally-Cat, you're making me so fucking hard."

"Ha, you couldn't handle me, sugar." Ally-cat smirked and pushed him off of her. Looking over, she caught me staring, causing me to blush and turn back to the pie. "Oh, sorry, honey. Guess we got a little carried away."

"It's fine," I muttered, carrying their pie and coffee over to them. "Most entertainment I've had in here all night."

"Seems kind of dead," she observed, sliding into the booth. "Is it always like this?"

"Only in the middle of the night when all the drunks are off marrying some bimbo or losing all their money at the casinos," I jibed. Emmett slid into the booth next her, laying his arm on the back. Ally-Cat leaned into his embrace. "Let me know if I can get you anything else."

"Will do, sweetheart," laughed Emmett.

I glared at him.

"It's not like I know your name," he exclaimed, smirking.

"It's Bella," I said, dryly. "Don't call me sweetheart again."

"Yes, Bella," he replied, sounding like a good little boy. "Since you told us your name, I'll tell you ours, because I'm sure you're dying to know me. I'm Emmett and this little vixen is Alice, or Ally Cat."

"Just Alice." She sighed and elbowed him.

Emmett laughed as he leaned over toward me.

"She's a real wild cat in the sack," he whispered. "Clawing at my back, begging for me to fuck her harder."

Alice reached up and popped him on the back of the head. "Asshole, you will never find out how I am in bed. I've seen the skanks that you've gone home with, and don't really feel like getting any diseases."

"Ally-Cat!" Emmett gasped, trying to look ashamed.

I left them alone and moved back over to the counter, enjoying my own piece of apple pie. Alice and Emmett finished their pie and coffee, leaving me a generous tip. They certainly were two of the most interesting people I've had in here all night, or all month for that matter.

Embry came in just after five in the morning, relieving me for the day shift, but informed me that he would need me to cover the night shift again. I only agreed because I needed the money, and he knew better than to fuck around with me. Gathering my stuff, I headed back to my apartment building. I wasn't in the mood to be alone so instead of stopping at my place, I headed down to Carlisle's, letting myself in with the key he gave me. He was lying in his bed, one arm covering his eyes while the other was draped across his bare abdomen. I stripped off my uniform and pulled on one of his shirts before climbing in under his covers, snuggling up to him. He brought his arm down, wrapping it around me.

"You stink," he muttered. "Busy night?"

"No," I murmured. "Did you sleep today?"

"No." Carlisle leaned over and kissed the top of my head. "You really stink."

"Shut the fuck up." I laughed, slipping my arm around his waist.

He laughed holding me tighter. "Night, Bella."

"Night, Car," I said, quietly.

Snuggling as close to him as I could, I drifted off to sleep, dreaming about an intense pair of green eyes.

**Thank you for all the reviews.**


	3. Chapter 3

**EPOV**

Have you ever had one of those moments where suddenly everything became clear? You know, where the universe becomes all aligned and everything was perfect?

This was not one of those moments — at all.

No, this was one of those moments were suddenly nothing made sense. The woman — no, the angel — standing at the end of the booth where Alice and Emmett sat had turned my entire world around and all she had done was look at me.

"And for you?" she asked.

I needed to speak, but I couldn't seem to find the words. The woman in front of me was the most exquisite woman I had ever seen: long, luscious mahogany hair; dark, sensual chocolate-brown eyes; and pink, sultry lips that begged for me to kiss them, suck on them, lick them, to worship them.

"Um," I gasped, clearing my throat and trying to regain some sense of normalcy. Looking back at the door, I muttered, "I've gotta . . . go."

Without looking back at her, or Emmett and Alice, I took off out the door. Climbing back on my bike, I took off, going too fast but needing to get away. She was intoxicating and I had only stood in the same room with her. How could anyone have that kind of an effect on me? Much less a woman I had just met?

I parked my bike outside my building and ran up to my apartment, locking the door behind me. Dropping my keys and helmet on the floor, I crossed over to the piano and sat down. Without even thinking about what I was doing, I placed my fingers on the keys and began playing, all while a pair of chocolate eyes haunted

—SMTS —

By the time I made it to the bar for my shift, I was exhausted. I had spent the entire day at my piano: playing, writing, breathing the music flowing through my fingers. For the first time in months — maybe even a year — I could feel the melody inside of me, begging to be released. I hadn't felt this in so long, and it both scared and thrilled me. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew my angel had everything to do with it.

"Dude, what the fuck was that shit last night?" Alice screeched, jumping on me the minute I walked the back door of the bar — literally jumping on my back and beating the shit out of me.

"Fuck, Alice, that's my ear," I muttered, easily pulling her off of me.

She narrowed her eyes at me, grabbing my arms and digging her claws into me.

"Shit! Fucking let go," I goddamned cried, trying to pull my arm out of her grip.

"Oh, she's got you now, Edward," Emmett snickered, coming in front the front. "Serves your ass right, too. You owe me for pie and coffee."

"How many fucking times have I paid for all three of us?" I scoffed, trying to dislodge Alice's nails. "Goddamn it, Ally-Cat, let go!"

"You just left," she jibed, finally pulling her nails out from my arms.

"You fucking left marks," I muttered, rubbing the skin and trying not to cry like a pussy.

"You fucking left and acted like a goddamn motherfucking loser!" Alice brought her hand up, threatening to claw my ass again.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," I groused, moving out of her reach.

"Dude, what was with that?" Emmett folded his arms in front of him.

Shifting my eyes away, I shrugged my shoulders and clocked in for my shift. "I was tired."

"That's why you look like shit right now," Alice scoffed, popping me on the back of the head.

"Alice, stop hitting me," I bit out.

"You left me with that asshole," she laughed, gesturing to Emmett, who winked at her. "He was putting the moves on me all goddamned night."

"Oh, Ally-Cat, you know you liked it." He snickered, palming her ass. "You were shoving this fine ass in my face and junk all night, baby."

"Ugh, get off of me." Alice pushed him away, but had a huge smile on her face.

She and Emmett flirted relentlessly with each other, but we all know it would never happen between them. Emmett laughed and headed back into the front of the bar to get ready for his shift up at the door.

Alice turned back to me, shaking her head. "I don't know what the fuck really happened last night, E, but if you ever do that shit again, I'll fucking cut you and that's a promise."

Alice popped me on the back of the head again before heading back out to the bar, swaying her fucking ass like the bitch she was. But she was right. I had acted like a jerk last night and I was sure both she and Emmett would make sure I paid dearly for leaving them high and dry, even if I always paid in the past.

Murphy's Law was slammed tonight, more than usual, at least. Friday night and payday meant we had a mixture of our usual drunks and the assholes that were drinking away their hard-earned money. The ones who cash their checks and instead of paying their rent or buying groceries, they'd come in and spend a few hundred bucks moaning and groaning about their piss-poor jobs, lousy marriages, pain-in-the-ass kids, and just how shitty our drinks were. What did I get to do while they bitched and whined? Call them cabs and make sure that none of them got behind the wheel of their cars.

Alice was working the VIP room again. Tonight's guest were out celebrating some kid turning twenty-one by getting him shitfaced drunk and trying to get him laid — probably for the first time. It wasn't the first time we'd dealt with this type of group, but these assholes made me uncomfortable. I didn't really want Alice back there with them, but it was her job. Emmett had his hands full between the front door and the rest of the drunks so I was trying to keep an extra close eye on the back room.

After taking the fifth round of shots back to them, she came up to me, looking pissed off.

"Edward, I need you," Alice snapped, gesturing to the VIP room.

That could only mean one thing: some motherfucker got a little too handy and needed to be taught a lesson. Motioning over to Ben — the other bartender — that I would be right back, I climbed over the bar and followed her into the room. Inside, I found six guys who were drunk, humping the couches, and yelling about Alice being a cock tease.

"There's the whore," the birthday boy sneered.

Alice rolled her eyes. This wasn't the first time she'd had a drunk call her a whore.

"That motherfucker grabbed my ass while his dick friend — the fuck-nut with the busted lip — groped my boobs," she explained, placing her hands on her hips. I had no doubt that the busted lip was her doing.

"Did not," the fucker holding the napkin up to his lip muttered.

I looked down at Alice. "I got it."

She understood and left. I turned back to the boys. They had better be glad Emmett wasn't the one brought back here. You don't mess with his Ally-Cat and expect to walk out without a limp.

"Let me make this as fucking clear as I possibly can. You do not touch her, look at her, think about her, or dream about putting your fucking dicks inside of her. She took it easy on you, but if you ever mess with her again, she will fuck you up. Then I will fuck you up. And just because I'm a bastard, I will get the big guy at the door to come fuck you up. Do we have an understanding?" I asked, looking around.

They all nodded their heads, clearly realizing that they had fucked up big time.

"Are you driving?" I asked.

They shook their heads.

"Limo," the asshat with the busted lip muttered.

"I suggest you take your sorry asses' home and sleep it off before you do something truly fucked up."

Leaving them sitting there, scared and probably having just pissed their pants, I headed back up to the bar, where Alice waited, tapping her nails rapidly. She looked up at me expectantly.

"I took care of it," I assured her.

"Did you kick their asses?" she asked, eagerly.

I laughed, but before I could reply, the boys from the VIP room came stumbling out. They took one look at me and Alice before bolting for the door, nearly pushing Emmett, which would have been bad — very bad. Emmett cocked his eyebrow as he came over to the bar.

"What the fuck was that about?" he asked, gesturing to stampede of scared, drunk boys.

"Usual," Alice said, shrugging her shoulders. She looked back at me. "So did you kick their asses or not?"

"Was there a need to kick their asses?" Emmett growled, turning back to the door. I could tell he was trying to decide if he could catch up to them or not. Again, nobody messes with his Ally-Cat.

Emmett and I had started working at the bar around the same time, nearly four years ago. Both new to Vegas, we quickly became friends. A year later, Alice showed up. She wasn't the same foul mouthed, bitchy, violent Alice that she was now. No, she was an angry, bitter, messed up Alice, who told us all to fuck off two dozen times a day when she started. Then one night after we closed, Emmett and I walked out of the back of the bar and found her kneeling against the wall, sobbing uncontrollably.

Without even thinking twice, Emmett picked her up. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, letting us take her back to his apartment. She fell asleep in his arms, whimpering and screaming every ten minutes. Emmett never let her go, holding her all night. Alice never told us what happened in the alley, or what her nightmares were about, but she didn't tell us to fuck off anymore, either. Alice didn't share anything about her life with us, or anyone. It's just the way it was.

"Not this time," I said, passing a couple of beers over to Ben. "A couple guys got a little too friendly. Alice busted a lip, and I gave them the usual shit."

"The 'I will fuck you up' speech?" Alice asked.

I nodded.

She laughed. "Thanks, E. That almost makes up for leaving us last night."

"Almost but it doesn't," Emmett added, pushing away from the bar and heading back to the front door.

—SMTS —

By the time I locked the bar up for the night, I was dragging. However, instead of driving back to my apartment, I found myself parked in front of the diner — her diner. From my seat on my bike, I could see my angel sitting behind the counter, bent over something. Why the hell had I come back here tonight?

Without thinking, I climbed off my bike, pulled my helmet off, and headed inside. The bells chimed as I pushed the door open, causing my angel to look up at me. Once again, I was lost in sea of chocolate brown. She stared at me, cheeks flushed pink. I let the door close behind me, but just stood there, staring at her.

"Hi." Her voice was calm, passionate, sensual, and sexy.

"Hi," I replied, dumbly. "Can I sit anywhere?"

"Anywhere you can find a seat," she said, smiling. "As you can tell, we're very busy."

"Yeah, practically overflowing." I laughed, looking around at the empty diner. Sitting down at the counter in front of her, I smiled. "I hear you have good pie."

"Um, it's okay," she murmured.

My angel reached up, pushing her hair behind her ear. I noticed that she had a smudge of orange paint just next to her ear. I reached out to wipe it away, but pulled my hand back. The urge to touch her was overwhelming. I just wasn't sure I'd be able to stop at just touching her face. My body craved hers, and I didn't even know her name.

"You have paint," I explained, gesturing to where she had it. "Just there by your ear."

"Oh, thanks," she muttered, rubbing the spot profusely, but it was still there. "I thought I got it all."

"It's orange," I mumbled, feeling like an idiot.

She nodded her head, but offered nothing more.

"Did you want some pie or . . . something?" she asked, biting on her bottom lip.

Fuck, if my cock wasn't already rock hard, that sent me over the edge.

"The kitchen is closed, but I could make you a burger or a sandwich or something. I mean, you know, if you want."

"No," I said, quickly — too quickly because my angel frowned. "Pie would be good, though. If you have any."

"A la mode?" she asked smiling.

"Please," I murmured. My angel nodded her head and stood up, grabbing the sketch pad in front of her. She moved over to the glass pie cabinet and pulled out two pies.

"Apple or cherry?" she asked, looking over at me.

I smiled. "Surprise me."

Blushing, she turned back to the pies, dishing us both a large piece of apple. She added two scoops of vanilla ice cream on top and set them down in front of me, pulling her stool up and sitting down.

"This looks good."

"They're okay," she said, taking a bite. Her tongue snaked out, licking all over the spoon. Averting my eyes, I picked up my spoon and took a bite.

"Oh, fuck me, that's good!" I moaned, all throaty and porn star like.

My angel burst out laughing, covering her mouth so she didn't spew her food all over me. I quickly swallowed, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. Her laughter increased as she reached over, grabbing a couple of napkins and placing one in front of me. Mentally slapping myself, I wiped my mouth and the back of my hand off, but this was good pie — like fucking good pie.

"Sorry," I muttered, feeling like a world class idiot.

She laughed again, but before she could say anything the door the diner opened again. We both looked over as a tall, thin blond guy wearing green scrubs came in. Turning back to my angel, I noticed she no longer had a smile on her face. Pushing her pie away, she moved from behind the counter and over to him.

"Car, what's wrong?" she asked. Car shook his head, taking her hands in his and bringing them up his lips.

"I couldn't save her," he murmured. "Never save her."

My angel looked over at me, frowning. A single word trickled from between her lips: "Sorry,"

"I should go," I mumbled, standing up.

My angel didn't say anything or even try to stop me as I pulled some money out of my back pocket and tossed it onto the counter. As I walked over to the door, I looked back at her. She had pulled him over to a booth and was sitting with his head on her shoulder. He got to feel her touch, the soft whispers of her breath as she comforted him, soothed him, and nurtured him.

Jealousy spiked through me.

Turning away, I walked out and climbed on my bike, heading back to my apartment. Slamming my apartment door shut behind me, I shuffled into my bedroom, falling on my bed. Toeing off my shoes, I covered my eyes with my arm and drifted off to sleep, where my angel haunted me, dancing to the melody that played in my head.

I was truly fucked.

**Thank you for all the reviews **


	4. Chapter 4

**BPOV**

Early the next afternoon, I woke up with Carlisle's arms wrapped tightly around me, his leg over mine, and his face buried in my hair. He had stayed at the diner with me until Embry came to start his shift. I understood his need to be close to me. When we came home, there was no question that he would sleep in my bed. Carlisle needed someone to hold him and tell him it was okay, someone who wouldn't press for details into what had happened to send him into a spiraling out of control. Not just last night, either, but in his past, as well.

Disentangling myself from his limbs, I left him asleep in my bed and quietly walked into the living room of my small apartment. I started a pot of coffee, and when it was ready, poured myself a cup in one of the two thick, brown cups I had bought from the diner. Carlisle always used the other one, so I left it on the counter, ready for when he woke up.

Padding my way back into the living room, I settled down on my stool, sipping on my coffee and staring at the painting I had started yesterday. Dark shadows, squiggly orange lines, deep red poured through the cracks on the wall. Hugging my cup to my chest, I picked up my brush and began to paint. I just wasn't sure what I was painting.

"_You call this art," he hissed, ripping the canvas with his foot as he kicked it. "This is trash. You're trash."_

Closing my eyes, I stilled my brush and tried to get him out of my head. _He_ wasn't here. _He_ couldn't be here. _He_ was gone, away from me, never able to hurt me again.

A hand landed on my shoulder, startling me.

"Ah!" I cried, jumping and spilling my coffee all over myself. "Oh, fucking shit, that's hot!"

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Carlisle muttered, waving his hands across my boobs. "I thought you heard me come in."

"It's fine," I grumbled, putting the cup down on the floor and rushing back into my bedroom.

I pulled off the T-shirt I had been wearing, tossing it in the hamper. Walking into the bathroom, I washed off the coffee, trying to sooth the red, shiny skin that was now on my legs, and chest from the scolding hot coffee. Heading back into my bedroom, I pulled one of my other T-shirts out of my laundry basket and slipped it on, adding a pair of black cotton shorts. When I walked back into the living room, I found Carlisle on his hands and knees, arm muscles tensing as he scrubbed the coffee stains out of the carpet. Sighing, I went over and knelt down next to him, covering his hand with mine.

"Don't," I murmured.

He looked up at me, eyes wide and full of fear. The way they always were when he thought he had hurt me.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I am so fucking sorry."

"I wasn't paying attention," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "It was my fault."

"Don't do that," he groaned, falling back onto his ass, pulling his knees up, and hands fisting his blond hair.

"Car —"

"No, it's my fault!" he yelled, pulling on his hair. "ALWAYS MY FAULT!"

Gently, I pulled his hands out of his hair and moved so that I was straddling his lap. He rested his head on my shoulder, letting his tears seep into my shirt — tears I knew had nothing to do with the coffee that burned me.

His arms wrapped around me, holding me tight.

I ran my fingers through his hair, letting him cry again. It wasn't the first time he had broken down with me and I doubted it would be the last, either. Carlisle held me when I cried from the demons that haunted me, and I did the same for him. No questions asked.

"Are your legs okay?" he whispered once he had calmed down.

"They're fine," I murmured. Tangling my fingers in his hair, I pulled his head back and looked him in the eyes, finding nothing but doubt in them. "They are fine, Dr. Cullen."

"Let me see," he said.

I rolled my eyes as I stood up, pulling the shades up on the window so he could see my legs. Tugging my shorts up a little, I showed him my legs. Carlisle groaned as he reached over and touched the red, blotchy area.

Hissing, I swatted his hand away. "Don't fucking touch it, asshole!"

"Sorry," he muttered, standing up.

"Don't apologize again," I ordered, turning and picking up my now empty cup of coffee. Walking into the kitchen, I dumped out the rest of the coffee. "I don't think we'll need that right now."

"You were painting."

I froze for a split second before I looked over my shoulder at him.

"Not really," I muttered. "Just messing around."

"No, you were lost inside your pretty little head," he murmured, a small smile pulling on the corner of his lips. I rolled my eyes, placing the empty coffee pot in the sink. "Bella."

"It's nothing."

My breath caught in my chest as I looked back at him, pleading with him to drop it. His smile fell and I let out a shaky laugh, feeling the tears building in my eyes. The tears that stayed away when the coffee burned me, but always came roaring back when I didn't want them.

"I don't even know what it is," I muttered, shifting my eyes to the ground. "A mess — a pile of shit."

"It's not," he whispered. Biting on my bottom lip, I looked around the kitchen. "I'm starving."

I smiled, looking back at him. "Me, too."

"Let's go out today," he suggested. "I don't work tonight. Let's get out of here. Do something, I don't know, crazy."

"Okay, just gotta stop by the diner and grab my check."

Carlisle smiled — a real smile — before kissing my head and leaving my apartment. I showered, letting the water stay on the cool side so it wouldn't irritate the burns on my legs. Once I was done, I dried off and slipped on my favorite panties: a pair dark blue, silk boy cut panties. Sometimes a girl just needed special panties. It was hot in Vegas in June so I decided to wear a dark blue mini-skirt and white tank-top with one of those built in bras. Knotting my hair on the top of my head, I slipped my feet into a pair of white flip-flops, grabbed my small purse, and headed to Carlisle's apartment. He was standing in the middle of his bedroom, khaki shorts hung low on his hips and no shirt on. It really was shame I wasn't attracted to him, he really was a gorgeous man.

"Stop staring at me, pervert," he laughed, pulling a grey T-shirt off his bed, and slipping it over his head. The front of the shirt had Yale written in large black letters.

"You know you like it," I teased, smiling. "You ready?"

"Yep," he murmured, slipping his wallet into his back pocket and grabbing his keys.

He slipped his hand into mine as we made our way out of our crappy building, ignoring the drunk on the front stoop and heading to the diner. Neither Carlisle nor I could afford a car and had gotten quite used to walking or taking the bus where ever we needed to go.

Ten minutes later, we walked into the diner and found Embry standing at the counter, going through a stack of tickets and grumbling about not making any money. As the door chimed announcing our arrival, he looked up, rolling his eyes when he saw Carlisle with me. Embry didn't like him, and the feeling was mutual.

"Where's my check?" I asked, ignoring the scowls on both of their faces. I had been in the middle of their pissing contests long enough to know better. Besides, we all knew Carlisle could kick Embry's scrawny ass.

"Here," was all Embry said, sliding the small white envelope out of the cash drawer to me. I picked it up, looking inside. Rage filled me as I snapped my eyes up to him. "Bella —"

"Where's the rest of it, motherfucker?" I snapped, slamming it back onto the counter. "You shorted me for two fucking nights that I worked in this shitty diner!"

"I know, but —"

"There are no goddamn buts!" I yelled. "Give me my fucking money or I'm taking the matter to your fucking father!"

Embry's eyes popped open, knowing that I would indeed take this to dear old Papa Call, the only man Embry answered to. "Bella, be reasonable. I had to pay Jess before she left and she needed a little extra money to get back home to Iowa."

"She was from Kentucky," I hissed. "I don't give a shit what she needed. I needed that extra money, too! I have rent to pay and I would fucking like to eat more than goddamn ramen noodles!"

"As soon as I can get it, I will pay you. Just please, don't talk to my dad," he begged me.

Sighing, I repressed my urge to reach across the table and slap the motherfucking shit out of him. "Fine, but you had better give me my money soon — or else."

He nodded his head frantically, knowing that I would go to his father if he didn't pay me soon. Rolling my eyes, I turned to Carlisle, who was glaring the fuck out of Embry. He wouldn't hesitate to fuck the little bastard up for me. Slipping my hand back into his, I pulled Carlisle out of the diner and back outside.

"I don't know why you still work in this shit-box," Carlisle muttered as I tucked my check into my purse. "He's always screwing you around."

"It's a job," I told him. "Not a lot of opportunities for me that don't include whoring myself out, dancing naked, or working in the casino, and I have an aversion to the uniforms at the casinos."

"But whoring yourself out and dancing naked would be okay?" he asked, laughing.

I smiled. "Beats the hell out of polyester."

Carlisle laughed, throwing his head back. I couldn't help, but laugh with him. Taking my hand back into his, he took off running down the street, still snickering. The only time I saw him let loose and be so free like this was after he had a breakdown. It was almost as if he had cleansed his soul and could finally breathe again.

I envied him.

A few minutes later, we ran into Sunset Park. He stopped and kicked off his shoes and socks, curling his toes into the grass, closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath. Slipping my hand out of his, I kicked off my flip-flops and sat down on the grass, watching as he just stood there serenely. He looked nothing like the broken man who had come stumbling into the diner last night, or who broke down in my arms this morning. Carlisle almost looked happy.

"I always loved going to the park," he murmured, sitting down next to me and propping himself up on his arms. "How about you?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'd never been to a park until I got Vegas."

"Oh," he said, frowning.

I looked away, pulling my knees up and tucking my arms between them and my body.

Carlisle turned onto his side, propped up on his arm and laying his other hand on my knee. "Hey, you."

Turning my eyes to him, I smiled weakly.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he whispered.

"Nothing," I lied — lying because no matter how hard I tried, the demons of my past were always sitting inside my head, waiting for me to let my guard down. But I couldn't tell him that, not if I wanted to keep him as a friend. "My mind is blank."

"No, there's something in there." Carlisle smiled. "Maybe something to do with that guy from the diner."

My cheeks warmed as I thought about Green Eyes.

"Oh, look at that blush," Carlisle snickered, falling onto his back, laughing.

"Shut the fuck up," I muttered, pushing his hand off of me.

Carlisle, however, just laughed harder.

"Fucking jerk," I chortled, shaking my head. I could never stay mad at him.

"Bella?" I looked behind me and saw Cherry Pie walking toward me in a pair of skin-tight jeans and a purple halter top that made her boobs look like they were about to pop out. Her dark hair had been pulled up so that the blue streaks, wove in and out. She stopped and stared at me, like she was expecting something.

"Um, you're cherry pie a la mode, right?" I asked, standing up.

Carlisle stood up behind me, slipping his arm around my waist. Cherry Pie smiled wider as she looked from me to him, giving him the once over.

"Yeah, but I usually go by Alice," she quipped.

"Right, Alice," I said, lifting my hand up.

"Well, since Bella won't introduce me, I guess I will. I'm Carlisle Cullen."

"Alice Brandon," she said, smiling. "Well, I should get going. Works going to be a real bitch tonight."

"Where do you work?" Carlisle asked.

"Over at Murphy's Law," she purred, winking at him. "You two should come by."

"Maybe we will," he cooed. I rolled my eyes at their blatant flirting, but didn't say anything.

"I hope so," she murmured, walking away.

Carlisle turned and watched her as she swayed her hips seductively. I gagged as I bent over and picked up my shoes, leaving him there gawking after her.

"Hey, where are you going?" Carlisle asked, catching up to me.

"Leaving to you lust after Alice," I muttered with a wave of my hand.

"I was not," he grumbled.

Looking up at him, I noticed he was red around the ears. I laughed — a lot.

"Stop laughing at me, bitch!"

"Looks who's blushing now, motherfucker," I snickered.

"Shut up," he muttered, rolling his eyes and taking my hand in his. "She was cute."

"She was," I agreed. "I'd do her."

"And I would watch," he laughed.

Cackling with him, Carlisle and I made our way down to the waterfront, sitting at the edge. I leaned over and laid my head on his shoulder and watched the ducks. Closing my eyes, I let my body relax and just enjoyed the sunshine.

"We should go," he murmured, turning and pressing his lips onto the top of my head. "To the bar."

"I don't know," I whispered, warily.

"I'll protect you," he swore.

"You can't."

"I will," he murmured. "This time I will. I promise."

Hearing the sincerity in each word, I gripped his hand tighter and nodded my head, agreeing to go and praying that it wouldn't be a mistake.

**Thank you for all the reviews. I know that Carlisle flirting with Alice is . . . odd, but remember that these characters aren't like they are in the books.**


	5. Chapter 5

**EPOV**

After a long day sitting at my piano of trying to get the melody out of my head and onto the music sheet, I gave up and headed down to the bar. Saturday nights down at Murphy's Law were worse than Fridays. The drunks were meaner, poorer, and more bitter. They made my job even more unbearable than it usually was.

When I pulled my bike up behind the bar, I saw Ben pressed against his girl, Angela — one hand on the wall and his other arm wrapped around her as he held her up and fucked her right there and then. She had her legs wrapped around his waist — shirt hanging wide open, boobs hanging out. It wasn't the first time I had seen them going at it, but at least this time, Ben had figured out how to just pull his dick out and not drop his pants completely. Seeing his pasty ass once had been torturous enough.

I shut my bike off and headed inside, ignoring the moaning coming from the two of them. If you looked at Angela, you would think she was a quiet, shy, librarian type. Tall, thin, and voluptuous, with long dark hair and big brown eyes, she certainly wasn't innocent. Angela worked at one of the strip clubs, making men come in their pants when she wore her tiny plaid skirt, extra small white blouse, and thick black-framed glasses. She knew how to play up the innocent school girl look.

"Oh, fuck, Ben! Right there, baby," she cried out, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back. "Harder!"

I gagged and headed inside, trying desperately to get the image of Angela and Ben fucking out of my head. He came in ten minutes later with a lazy grin and a freshly fucked look on his face. If he started whistling Dixie, I fucking swear I would punch him in the throat.

Before I could say anything the front door to the bar opened and our boss Paul Lahote came waltzing in with a dark caramel-haired woman. She couldn't be much older than me, maybe a year or two. Her long hair had been pulled back into a ponytail and she wore very little make-up. She was wearing a short black skirt with a red strapless top and a pair of matching red heels. She looked around nervously, like she was unsure why Paul was bringing her in here.

"Masen, this is your new server, Esme . . ." Paul trailed off as he looked back over at her, having forgotten her last name.

"Platt. My name is Esme Platt," she said, shortly with a roll of her eyes.

I smiled at her.

"Edward Masen," I chuckled, holding out my hand to her. "Nice to meet you, Esme."

"Yeah, you, too," she muttered, shaking my hands as she looked around the place. "This place is a dump."

"Yeah, it is, but the drunks like it," I agreed, liking her frankness and ability to say what's on her mind. Paul cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the situation. Not like I hadn't told him how much this place sucked. Wasn't my fault he was a cheap bastard.

"Show her the ropes, Masen," he ordered before turning and walking out.

Alice came skipping in about twenty seconds later, laughing her ass off.

"One day, I'm going to enjoy watching Emmett kick Paul's ass," Alice snickered, sitting on a bar stool. "That dirty motherfucker tried to grab my ass again."

"Fucker," I muttered, slamming a glass down onto the bar top.

"Who are you?" Alice turned to Esme, whose eyes were wide open. "Are you fucking breathing? Edward, I think she stopped breathing. Hurry! Give her mouth to mouth."

"Alice, shut the fuck up," I laughed. "You're scaring the newbie."

Alice threw her head back and laughed as she stood up. "Fuck, I love fresh meat."

Without another word, Alice walked off to get ready for the night.

Esme turned and looked back at me. "Is she always such a bitch?"

"Yes," I admitted. "That's Alice Brandon. She's the best waitress we have in this shit box and she doesn't take bullshit from anyone," I explained as the door opened and Emmett came in, running his hand through his dark curly hair. "That's Emmett McCarty. He'll protect you with his life. Just don't make him have to."

"S'up." Emmett nodded at Esme before turning to me. "Dude, Ally-Cat tell you about that fucker again?"

"Yep." Looking over at Esme, I waved toward the back. "You can follow Alice around for a bit."

"Okay," she muttered, before she nervously walking toward the back room of the bar. I shook my head and looked back at Emmett, who was openly ogling her.

"She's hot," he exclaimed, turning back to me. "Seems kind of skittish, though. You really think having Alice train her is the best move?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "No, but if she can handle Alice, then she'll be a keeper."

"Whatever." Emmett snorted, turning and heading over to the door.

An hour later, I had the bar ready for the night shift. Emmett was in front of his door. Ben had washed his hands — I knew where his hands had been — and was ready to feed the drunks. Alice had given Esme the ins and outs of the place, and Esme looked like she was ready to throw up. With a nod of my head, I motioned for Emmett to open the doors.

Two hours later, the bar was in full swing and I had already had to 'talk' to two different groups.

The first was a group of college aged motherfuckers out spending Mom and Dad's money, who thought it would be all right to drag Alice out to the dance floor and rub their junk all over her. She kneed one of them in the nuts, dug the heel of her stiletto into the foot of another one, and popped a third one in the nose, effectively breaking it. Then, she came and got me. I tried to be nice as Emmett and I threw out the trash, but my fist may have come into contact with one or more of their jaws and based on the squealing that the one Emmett had was doing, I guessed he had even less control of his fists.

The second group palmed Esme's ass. Now, when you work in a bar full of drunks, having your ass grabbed was common, but when she told you to stop, and you don't — well, that's when I came into the picture. Luckily, I was able to convince this group to just leave and not come back. Esme looked a bit flustered as she stammered out a thank you. I winked at her and reassured her that it wasn't a big deal. And it wasn't. I did it for Alice and I'd do it for her, too. One thing I wouldn't tolerate was anyone who put their hands on a woman without their consent.

Not again, anyway.

Heading back to the bar, I returned to work. I had just bent over to pull out a bottle of beer from the cooler when someone started tapping their nails on the bar, quite impatiently in fact. Ignoring them, I stood up and slid the beer down to the guy who'd ordered it.

"Excuse me," the voice that had been haunting me for two days called out.

I froze for a split second before I turned and found my angel standing at the end of the bar. Her hair was down, framing around her face. A small, tentative smile played on her lips. However, there was something in her eyes — fear, uncertainty, something that I hadn't seen in almost ten years. She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and my cock hardened.

"Hey." I felt like an idiot as I walked over to her.

"Hi," she said, quietly. "I didn't know you worked here."

"For a few years now."

My angel nodded and looked around. "This place is a bigger dump than my diner."

I laughed. "True."

Before either of us could say anything else, the blond guy from the diner came up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist. Jealousy surged through me once again. The blond man looked up at me, a smirk spreading across his face, like he knew something I didn't. My fingers twitched, urging me to reach across the bar and slam his head down, but I resisted.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked.

"Fine," I bit out. My angel frowned. "What can I get you?"

"Beer. Whatever you have on tap," he said. Looking down at my angel, he asked, "What do you want?"

"Water," she murmured, giving him a look. He sighed, but nodded his head, silently agreeing to her unspoken request.

"Water for the lady."

Looking down at my angel again, I walked over and pulled her a bottle of water out and filled him a mug of beer. When I looked back, my angel had turned and was facing her . . . friend. He leaned down to her whispering something into her ear, something that caused her to tense. Even from the back, I could tell he had upset her. Biting back my growl, I walked back over and slammed their drinks down, causing her to jump up and spin around. Fear stretched across her and I immediately felt like an ass for scaring her.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

"CARLISLE!" Alice screamed, running over and jumping on the guy standing behind my angel. He laughed, wrapping his arms around her, placing one of his hands dangerously close to her ass. "I can't believe you actually came!"

"You told us we should." Carlisle laughed, putting her back down on her feet. "Who am I to ignore the suggestion of a beautiful woman?"

"You have to come dance with me," Alice demanded, pulling on his hand.

Carlisle smiled and looked down at my angel. "I'll be back."

"Okay," my angel murmured. Alice squealed as she pulled Carlisle out to the dance floor, grinding her ass into him. "She's perky."

Looking back at my angel, I smiled. "Most of the time she's a bitch."

"He can be an ass," she giggled, picking up her water.

"Doesn't it bother you?" I asked.

"What?"

"Him out there dancing and flirting with another woman," I explained.

My angel sighed. "You get used to it."

"Who's that out there with Ally-Cat?" Emmett wondered, stomping his way over to the bar. Before I could explain, he looked down at my angel. "Sweetheart!"

Without missing a beat, my angel reached up and grabbed his nipple, twisting and bringing Emmett down to her level. He opened his mouth and silently cried out.

"My name is not sweetheart, you motherfucking asshole," my angel hissed.

"I'm fucking sorry, Bella!" he wailed, pulling his nipple out of her grip. "Shit, they're attached, you know."

"I know." Bella smirked, looking back at me. "What?"

My angel — whose name apparently was Bella — took Emmett down, getting him to actually apologize. I opened my mouth several times, but I couldn't seem to speak.

"I'm Edward Masen," I finally managed to utter.

She smiled. "Bella Swan."

"That fucking hurt," Emmett muttered. "Now who's that motherfucker out on the dance floor with Alice?"

"His name is Carlisle, and he's not a motherfucker," Bella gritted, glaring at Emmett. He shrank back, covering his man-boobs.

"You're like a fucking ninja," Emmett grumbled, walking away.

I laughed.

"What's so funny?" Bella asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Edward, dude, I could use some help," Ben hollered before I could explain. Turning, I saw him swamped with people.

"I'm coming." Looking back at Bella, I smiled. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be back."

"Okay," she breathed, pulling her bottom lip back in between her teeth.

My cock twitched.

I headed over and started helping Ben fill orders. Alice came back over, grinned, and grabbed an order from us. I looked back and saw Carlisle sitting next to Bella, but she was watching me, completely ignoring whatever he told her. I smiled at her and she blushed, ducking her head. That woman was killing me.

Ben and I had finally gotten caught up when we heard a loud scream. Snapping my attention toward it, I saw Esme being pinned to the wall by a guy who had his hand around her throat. Gritting my teeth together, I catapulted over the bar, but before I could get there, Carlisle had the fucker on the ground, knee in his gut, and hand wrapped around his throat and a menacing look on his face.

"She said no, you dumb fuck," he snarled, spit spraying into the drunk's face. "When she says no, she fucking means no. You don't put your fucking hands on her." Jerking the man up an inch off the ground, Carlisle slammed him back down. "YOU FUCKING ASS!"

Esme stayed pressed against the wall, tears swimming in her eyes.

Carlisle — keeping his hand wrapped around the guy's throat — looked up at her and his eyes softened.

"Are you all right?" he asked. Esme nodded frantically. "Did he hurt you? Did you hit your head on the wall?"

"No," Esme whispered, shaking her head.

Carlisle nodded and stood up, dragging the guy up by the throat. Emmett pushed his way through the crowd and grabbed the asshole from Carlisle, hauling him out through the back. Based on the look on Emmett's face, that guy was not going to look too pretty in the morning.

Carlisle stepped over to Esme, holding out his hand. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." She nodded, placing her hand in his. They both looked down at their hands before lifting their eyes upward.

As they stood there, staring deeply into each other's eyes, I turned back and looked at Bella, who was still sitting on her stool. However, her eyes were wide and frightful, and her grip on her bottle of water was so tight, her knuckles were white. Pushing my way past everyone, I rushed over to her. Bella scrambled off the stool and hit the wall behind her, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Her lips trembled as she opened her mouth. "I have to go."

"What?" I frowned. "Please, wait. It's almost closing time."

"I can't," she cried, bringing her hand up to her mouth.

"Bella, oh my God," Carlisle muttered, pushing past me and catching her before she dropped to the floor. She threw her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. "It's okay. I've got you, honey."

Standing up with her in his arms, he turned and headed toward the door. Without even thinking, I reached out and grabbed his arm.

"I'll take her home," I said, not even realizing what I was saying.

Carlisle looked over his shoulder at me. "You don't know her."

Without giving me a chance to say anything else, Carlisle turned and pushed his way past everyone and out of the bar. I turned and saw Alice, Esme, Emmett, and Ben all watching me, confused expressions on their faces. Composing myself, I headed over and put my hands on Esme's shoulder.

"Sure you're okay?" I asked.

She nodded her head, ducking her head down.

I reached over and tilted her head up. "You don't have to be strong for us. Your first night has been a real bitch."

"Is it always like this?" Esme's voice trembled.

"Pretty much," I admitted, leaning forward and kissing her forehead. "But we'll keep you safe, Esme."

"As if it's that easy," she mumbled, pulling away from me and heading back over to her tables.

"That bitch needs to get a backbone," Alice quipped. "Can't let those bastards have control."

Alice headed back over to her section, and I turned to head back behind the bar.

However, Emmett grabbed my arm, spinning me so I was facing him. "Dude, you look like shit."

"Gee, thanks," I grumbled, pulling my arm out of his grip. "We're closing early. Flip the lights."

"Paul's gonna have your ass if he finds out," Emmett warned.

"Do I look like I am scared of that pussy?" I hissed. Emmett simply stood there, staring at me. "Flip the fucking lights."

Emmett shook his head and headed over to the front door, flipping the lights on, causing everyone to look over at him.

"Bar's closing. Pay up and get out," he said, loudly. Everyone started grumbling. "NOW!"

Half an hour later, Emmett was able to lock to front door. Alice and Esme got their sections cleaned while Ben and I handled behind the bar. He bid us a good night and headed home, probably to Angela. Ten minutes later, Emmett, Alice, Esme, and I walked out back.

"Take me home, baby!" Alice giggled, jumping on Emmett's back and slapping his ass.

"Fuck, Ally-Cat! That hurts." Emmett rubbed his ass, hoisting her higher on his back.

"You love the pain," Alice teased, laughing as she dug her fingers into his hair and pulled his head back. "Now, take me home!"

"Yes, Mistress Ally," Emmett roared, taking off down the alley.

I chuckled and locked the door to the bar before looking back at Esme, who appeared nervous. "You got a car?"

"No. I'm just gonna walk," she muttered.

"I don't think so," I scoffed, tossing her my helmet. Esme caught it, hugging it to her chest. "These streets aren't safe, especially at night."

"I'll be fine," she insisted, trying to hand me the helmet back.

"I don't fucking care," I growled, straddling my bike. "Get the damn helmet on your head and get on the back of my bike. I'm fucking taking you home."

Esme didn't say anything as she rattled off her address and climbed on behind me, pulling the helmet over her head. She slipped her arms around my waist loosely. Rolling my eyes, I reached down and pulled on her arms, tightening her grip around my waist. Kick starting my bike, I headed toward Esme's apartment.

Her building looked like it was a little nicer than mine. Parking my bike, I climbed off and helped her off. Esme shoved my helmet into my hands, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Are you quitting?" I asked.

She looked up at me, surprise etched on her face. "Quitting what?"

"The bar," I said. "You had a rough first night."

"I did," she admitted. Shaking her head, she sighed. "I can't quit. I need the job."

"There are other jobs," I pointed out.

"I am not a whore," she spat.

"Never said you were," I said, putting my hands up. "But you had better get tougher skin, because the drunks are only going to get meaner and touchier the longer you work there."

"I can handle it," she gritted out, turning and walked toward her building. "Thanks for the ride."

"I'll be here tomorrow at six," I yelled. "Don't make me wait."

Esme waved me off. Being somewhat of a gentleman, I waited until she was inside before I climbed onto my bike and headed home. Tossing my keys and helmet onto the floor again, I locked my door and headed straight to my bedroom. Stripping down to just my boxers, I climbed into my bed and pulled the blanket over my head. For the second night in a row, my angel starred in my dreams. Only tonight, all I noticed was the fear in her eyes.

**Thanks again for all the support! I love reading your reviews, even if I don't always get a chance to reply to them.**


	6. Chapter 6

**BPOV**

"_You're worthless," he sneered, gripping the canvas between his hands and ripping my painting down the middle. "Nobody's going to buy this shit. Why can't you be normal?"_

"_I love painting," I spoke up, trying to defend myself. He swung his hand back, sending me flying into the wall._

"_You don't argue with me, you fucking bitch!" he bellowed. Grabbing me by the hair, he dragged me up, slamming me against the thick plaster. Wrapping his fingers around my throat, he leaned in, the smell of scotch oozing off of him. "I'll make you pay for even thinking you have a choice in this life."_

_Pulling me away from the wall, he slammed me back against it, my head cracking the plaster. Sliding me up again, I felt my feet leave the ground. I clawed at his hand, trying to free myself. As the darkness crept over, I heard him laughing._

Springing up in bed, I screamed, the sound echoing throughout the room. When a hand reached up and grabbed my shoulder. I threw my elbow back, scrambled out of the bed, and crouched defensively in the corner. My entire body shook, and my eyes burned with the tears I refused to let fall. Crying was for the weak.

"Bella," Carlisle called out. Snapping my eyes up, I saw him slide out of my bed, placing his hands up in the air. "It's me."

Shifting my eyes around the room, I searched for any sign of _him_, reminding myself that _he_ couldn't be here. _He_ was locked up, never able to hurt me again.

Tuning back to Carlisle, I let out the breath I had been holding, trying to get the strength to unclench my fists. Carlisle moved over, sitting in front of me. Grabbing my hands, he peeled my fingers back, blending his with mine. A tear slid down my face, dropping onto my shirt.

"You okay?" he wondered, reaching over and gently stroking my cheek.

My eyes fluttered to close and I inhaled deeply.

"Hey, look at me."

I opened my eyes, looking up into his baby blues.

"You are okay."

"What time is it?" I murmured. Carlisle looked over his shoulder at the clock sitting on my night table.

Looking back at me, he frowned. "Almost seven."

"I need to get ready for work," I muttered, sliding against the wall. He stood up, still holding onto my hand. Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead against his chest. "Thanks."

"For what?" he asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Just — just thanks."

Leaning up, I kissed his cheek, knowing Carlisle wouldn't push me to explain why I freaked out last night. Leaving him standing there, I walked into my bathroom and started the shower. I turned, looking at myself in the mirror. I expected to see bruises covering my cheeks, a busted lip, or maybe even, a hand print around my neck, but they weren't there, not anymore. They — like so many before them — faded into nothing, just like I had done.

Turning away from the mirror, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, allowing, my mind drifted off to Edward. Tipping my head back into the water, I thought about how his lips curved upward, his eyes twinkled when he laughed. Shaking my head, I pushed all thoughts of him out away. There was no way he'd ever be interested in a freak like me, especially not after the way I acted last night.

_Just one more way that I fuck everything up, _I thought.

I finished showering and dried off before I stepped out of the shower. When I walked into my bedroom, I found my uniform laying on my bed, causing me to smile. Carlisle always took good care of me, even when it annoyed the shit out of me. I slipped on my panties, adding a simple white cotton bra, before pulling on my uniform. Tucking my hair up into a messy bun, I slipped on my shoes and walked into living room of my small, crappy apartment. Carlisle was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, sipping on the coffee he'd made, and wincing. He made horrible coffee, we both knew it.

"Want me to walk you?" he offered, dumping out the thick concoction.

Shaking my head, I smiled. "I'll be fine."

"You sure? I don't mind walking you to the diner." Worry oozed off each word. Carlisle wasn't used to me being the one who needed holding. Normally, I got over my freak outs within a few minutes, pushing everything back. I was determined to be strong enough to just deal with it all, but not this time. For some reason, this time it shook me to my core.

"I'll be fine," I lied, knowing he'd see right through me. "I better go. Lock up behind you, okay?"

Carlisle nodded, walking me to the door. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head before I left. I walked out of the building, down the front stoop, and headed toward the diner, trying to steel my nerves for a long day.

Walking into the diner, I was surprised to see Mr. Call standing at the cash register with a tall, thin man with shaggy blond hair that hung lazily in his face. They both looked up at me, and I noticed the blond guy had dark blue eyes, almost so dark they looked black. He shifted his eyes away. I looked back at Mr. Call, who was an older version of his son.

"Isabella," he greeted me, smiling. He refused to call me Bella, even after I threatened to quit. He and I had a special relationship: he knew this place would fall apart without me, and he liked pissing me off. It was a love/hate relationship for sure.

"Mr. Call," I gritted, walking around the counter. "What are you doing here?"

"I own the place," he quipped, turning to face me. I stowed my bag under the counter, before crossing my arms in front of my chest. He huffed. "I fired Embry."

"You fired your son?" I choked, stifling my urge to laugh. What kind of man fires his own flesh and blood?

_You know exactly what kind of man._

Inhaling sharply, I shook my head.

"I had no choice after he took last night deposit and blew it on a crap hand in blackjack. Who the fuck bets three grand when you're showing seventeen?" Mr. Call shook his head, clearly disgusted with his son. It didn't surprise me. Embry had always been a loser. "Anyway, he's lucky I didn't have his ass thrown in jail. Maybe he'll learn something in one of my other businesses since this one has taught him nothing."

"I highly doubt that," I muttered, as the door to the diner opened. Sam and Emily came in with their girls, waving on their way back to their usual table. "I'll be right there."

Emily smiled. "No hurry, Bella."

I turned back to Mr. Call, and then at the blond guy, looking directly at him. "Who are you?"

"Jasper," he stammered, dropping his eyes to the floor, "Whitlock."

"Hmm," I snorted, looking up at Mr. Call. "He's what? Embry's replacement?"

"Something like that," he replied. "Jasper's going to work the kitchen, but I need you to run this place."

I clenched my jaw.

"No!" I sneered, slamming my hand on the counter. Jasper flinched, stepping backward. Taking a calming breath, I glared at Mr. Call. "No, I will not be running this shithole. I hate it!"

"You work here," he gritted. "You will do as I say, or else."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Fine! Then I quit!"

Spinning on my heel, I walked back around the counter and over to the door.

I had barely touched the handle when Mr. Call called out, "Isabella, stop!"

Turning, I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"My name's Bella," I snarled.

"Fine, Bella." He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Look, I need you to help me get this place in order. I'm looking to hire some help, but not many people want to work in this place when they can make more money at the casinos."

"Then I want a raise." I smirked, folding my arms in front of me. Might have been my imagination, but it looked like Jasper smiled. Of course, with the way his hair hung down, it made it hard to see his face clearly.

"Bella, I can't afford to pay you more, and hire new staff," Mr. Call whined.

Instead of replying, I turned and placed my hand on the door, pushing it open.

"A dollar more an hour."

"Three," I countered, looking over my shoulder at him.

He hesitated, before offering, "Two."

"Deal." I smirked, walking back around the counter and putting on my apron. I turned to Jasper. "By the way, I'm Bella Swan."

"Nice to meet ya," he drawled, southern accent wrapping around each word.

The door to the diner opened again, I looked over to see the old man stalking in. Sighing, I pulled out my order pad and scribbled down his order. Shoving it into Jasper's hand, I reached over, pouring the old man some coffee. "Get his order made now or he's going to be up my ass. Then I'll be up yours."

Jasper nodded before scurrying into the kitchen, limping to his left a little. Mr. Call snickered, until my glare stopped him. I turned, carrying the pot of coffee with me as I walked over to the old man, setting his freshly poured cup in front of him.

Before I could say anything, he huffed, "Where you been, girl?"

"What?" I asked, completely taken back.

"Where you been?" he repeated, looking up at me for the first time in the two years I've been working here. His dark eyes were lackluster and full of pain. "You weren't here."

"You miss me, old man?" I chuckled, leaning against the seat across of him.

"No," he grumbled, dropping his eyes down. "You're just the only one who knows what they're doing in this place."

"They mess up pretty bad yesterday?" I asked. He nodded, but didn't offer anymore. "I'll take care of it. I'm going to make sure everything's perfect today, okay?"

Again, he nodded, and I knew our conversation was over. I headed over to Sam and Emily, getting their drink orders, apologizing again for it taking me so long. They both waved me off, thanking me for the entertainment. I scoffed, walking back around the counter. Loading my tray with their drinks, I picked up the old man's order from the window on my way by. Jasper did good and made everything perfect for him.

"Here you go." I set the plate down, watching as he turned it in a complete circle. "Let me know if you need anything."

He grunted out an okay before waving me off. I dropped Sam and Emily drinks off, laughing when little Cassie stood up in the booth and hugged me. The dark haired little girl had just turned five and would be starting kindergarten in the fall. I wrote down their order, turning it back into Jasper, who said he'd have it ready in five minutes. A man of his word, he had their order cooked to perfect four minutes later.

A few minutes after I dropped their food off, the old man left. I went over and started clearing his table. But instead of his usual twenty dollars, he'd left me thirty. On the bottom of his ticket he scribbled, _**Don't leave me again.**_

Smiling to myself, I finished clearing his table and pocketed the extra tip before going back to work.

Mr. Call left after an hour, muttering something about the place losing more money than it earned. I bit back the snarky retort about how this place was a dive, but seeing as I needed the job, I decided against it. Jasper minded his own business in the kitchen, pushing out orders faster than Embry ever had. We made it through the breakfast rush and the lunchtime stampede, finding ourselves sitting at the counter, bored by the middle of the afternoon. Jasper sat tapping his foot nervously.

"How long have you been in Vegas?" I asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"A few weeks," he muttered, looking over at me. "You?"

"Long enough to hate it," I griped. "A couple of years. You're from the south?"

"Texas." He shifted his eyes away. "How about you?"

"Arizona," I replied, as the door to the diner opened. Looking back, I froze when I saw Edward walk in. Looking around, he smiled when he spotted me. "Hey."

"Hi," he said, shifting his eyes to Jasper, before looking back at me. "Um, this place is pretty dead."

"Afternoon drought," I explained. "By now, everyone's headed over to the casinos, where they will spend all their hard earned money on the nickel slots."

Edward nodded "They'll be down at the bar tonight bitching about it, too."

"True," I admitted, standing up. "You can sit wherever you want."

"Um, okay." Edward walked over, sitting on the stool next to me.

I walked back around the counter, feeling the need to have something between us. Jasper shifted his eyes over to Edward, giving him a stiff nod before looking away.

Edward looked back at me. "Still have some pie?"

"None that hasn't been in there for a week," I laughed, shaking my head. "We have some pretty damn good cookies, though."

"Oatmeal raisin?" he hoped, eyes sparkling.

"Perhaps." I smirked. "Want ice cream with them?"

"Please."

Jasper stood up, scurrying into the back while I got Edward's cookies and ice cream. I slid the plate in front of him, watching as he scooped up a spoonful and brought it to his mouth, savoring it. He moaned and I felt a tingle shoot through my body that I'd never felt. Turning away, I poured him some coffee, setting it in front of him.

"These are really good." He smiled, gesturing to the cookies. "Did you make them?"

I nodded. "Glad you like them."

"Best I've ever had," he chuckled.

"I doubt that," I scoffed, pulling a stool over and sitting down.

For several minutes, neither one of us spoke. The silence was deafening. From the kitchen, I could hear Jasper piddling around, cleaning and putting away dishes. Edward finished his dessert and pushed his bowl away. I reached out of the empty dish, but he grabbed my hand. I should have pulled away from his, but I didn't. Instead, I looked up at him, feeling my breath catch in my chest.

"I'm worried," he admitted, sounding ashamed of himself.

"Why?" I wondered.

"I don't know," he muttered, letting my hand go. I grabbed the dish and walked it over and setting in with the dirty dishes. "Last night, at the bar, you . . . Well, you looked scared."

I tensed, closing my eyes. The last thing I wanted to talk about was last night. Slowly turning to face him, I brought my hand up to my chest, laying my palm over my racing heart. Edward watched me, pleading me with his eyes not to push him away, but I couldn't explain to him. He'd never understand.

Clearing my throat, I said, "You don't need to worry about me, Edward. I'm fine."

"Yeah?" he pressed, cocking an eyebrow. I nodded. "Then, why do you look like you're about to piss all over yourself."

I clenched my jaw shut, shifting my eyes away. "Why do you care?"

"Bella . . ." Edward let his words trail off, shifting his eyes away from me. "I don't know, but I do."

"You shouldn't," I whispered. He looked back at me. "I'm not worth it."

Standing up, he tossed some money on the counter. Walking over to the door, he paused and turned back to me. "I think you're worth it."

Edward walked out the door, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging wide open. Jasper came out from the kitchen, looking between me and the door.

"You okay?" he asked. I looked over at him. "Bella?"

"I'm fine." My voice shook.

Turning back to the door, I could feel the tears burning in my eyes. That was the first time I'd ever heard anyone tell me I was worth anything.

**Thanks again for all the support! I love reading your reviews, even if I don't always get a chance to reply to them.**


	7. Chapter 7

**EPOV**

Walking out of the diner, I paused and took a deep breath. I don't know what pushed me to say that to her, but the moment the words were out of my mouth, I knew I meant them. She was worth it to me. I just didn't know why. It was almost like she spoke to me, without actually having to say anything. Shaking my head, I walked over to my bike and climbed on. Kick starting it, I looked back into the diner, and saw her still standing in the same spot. What was it about Bella that made my heart clench in my chest?

Trying to push all thoughts of Bella out, I headed over to Esme's. She was waiting for me outside, sitting on the bottom step with her knees pulled up in front of her. Instead of the short skirt she'd worn last night, she picked a pair of tight jeans tonight, matching it with a blood red tank top and leather boots. I didn't have the heart to tell her that it wouldn't matter to the drunks. All they saw were tits and ass, even if we weren't that kind of bar.

"Hey." I offered her the helmet. "Surprised to see you waiting for me."

"Figured it beat the hell out of walking," she muttered, climbing on behind me. Slipping her arms around my waist loosely, she laid her head on my back. "Just don't kill us. I'd rather not die today."

"I'll try not to," I scoffed, kick starting my bike again and taking off toward work.

Esme and I pulled up behind the bar a few minutes later. She climbed off, throwing the helmet at me, and running inside. I followed, stowing it under the bar, and started getting ready for my shift. Esme started the jukebox, before moving around and pulling chairs off the tables. Every few minutes, I could hear her singing along with the music. She had a nice voice, smooth and smoky. She had a very bluesy feel to her.

"You sing professionally?" I wondered.

Esme looked over at me and smiled.

"I wish," she laughed. "No, I'm not good enough to do more than sing along with the radio."

"Bullshit," I chuckled. "You've got a beautiful voice. Just need to find the right song, I think."

"I'd never be able to do it, Edward. I'm just another loser, biding her time until . . ." she trailed off, letting her words hang in the air.

"Until?" I pressed.

Shaking her head, she turned back to her table. "Until we're dead."

I didn't know what to say, so I choose to say nothing. She went on with her job, and I turned back to the bar, stocking the shelves and getting ready for another busy night. Even though Sunday's weren't nearly as hectic as Friday and Saturday, we'd still have a crowd, and an angry one at that. Ben shuffled in ten minutes later, moving slower than normal, which usually meant Angela got a little carried away in the bedroom. I tried not to think about them, and the twisted things they did to get off. They just fit together, and they both seemed to enjoy their lifestyles.

A few minutes before we were due to open, I heard the back door to the bar open as Alice and Emmett came in. He headed straight for the front door, nodding his head at me. I knew him well enough to know that when Emmett was this quiet, you just let him be. Sometimes, even Emmett needed time to deal with his shit, like we all seemed to do.

"EDDIE!" Alice sang, bouncing into the bar, jumping on my back. She leaned around and planted a sloppy wet kiss on my cheek.

"Get the fuck off of me Ally-Cat," I growled, pushing her off.

She laughed, jumping on top of the bar, showing off her bare legs. Lifting her leg up, she placed her foot directly on my chest.

"What do you think?" She pointed to the new tattoo on her ankle. Emmett and I both knew she loved tattoos and had several on her back, arms, and legs. The new one was of an angel. "You like?"

"It's nice," I commented, taking a better look at it. "What's up with Em?"

Alice shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know. He got a call this morning."

I nodded. A call was never a good sign. "Nice ink, Ally-Cat."

"He's pretty angry." She sighed, looking over her shoulder at him. "Watch him, okay? Make sure he doesn't do something stupid like — I don't know — get his ass thrown in jail."

"I will," I promised.

Alice climbed off the bar, leaned up on her toes, and kissed my cheek before heading out to cover her tables. I looked back at Emmett, who sat on his stool just inside the door with his face buried in his hands. In the four years that I'd been friends with him, I'd only seen him like this a handful of time. He, Alice, and I had an unspoken agreement: don't ask. We didn't when Alice raged with anger, or when I lost myself in my music, and we especially didn't when Emmett got quiet.

With a nod of my head, Emmett opened the bar, letting the eager drunks in. They rushed to the bar and tables, spouting off orders faster than we'd be able to pull them out. They were in a hurry tonight, ready to forget whatever trouble had brought them to Murphy's Law in the first place. Moving as fast as we could, Ben and I managed to get them all settled, ignoring the slamming, and bitter remarks about us being too slow. It came with the job, and you got used to it.

I kept a close eye on both Esme and Emmett tonight, needing to make sure that they both were okay. Esme had a rough time the night before, and while she came back, I didn't think she'd be able to handle more of the same. Something told me that she'd been pushed to her breaking point more than once. Maybe it was my own reflection that I saw in her eyes. Emmett was a breath away from letting loose on some poor schmuck. Whatever had gone down with that phone call this morning had set him off, taking the Emmett that Alice and I knew, and leaving a miserable, angry son of a bitch in his place.

We finally got the bar closed just after three in the morning. Ben took off, muttering something about hoping that Angela was asleep. She wouldn't be, and he knew that. Esme left, insisting that she didn't need a ride home. Even though I didn't believe her, I let her go and hoped that she would be all right. I made a mental note to drive by her place on my way home. Emmett glowered at the bar, spinning his bottle around while Alice sat on top of the bar, leaning back in her hands and letting her head hang back.

"Tonight might have been the calmest night we've had in this dump in at least a month," she murmured with a sigh.

"Yeah, the drunks were remarkably tranquil," I agreed, smiling as I looked up at her. "I didn't have to kick anyone's ass for you tonight."

"I don't need you to kick anyone's ass for me, Edward," she scoffed. "I can take care of myself."

"Everyone always says they can do it alone, but none of us can," Emmett muttered and, we looked over at him. "Don't worry about me, I can handle it all. Until you can't. Then, when someone tries to help you, you push us away. Middle of the night phone calls, sobbing on the other end about how much you need me, but you never let me help. Then, it's too late. Always too fucking late."

Neither of us knew what to say. Emmett had never been much of talker, outside of his usual smart-ass comments. He sighed, tossing his empty bottle in the trash and spinning on his seat, leaning against the bar. "I gotta leave town for a few days. Things came up, and I have to take care of them."

Alice placed her hand on his shoulder. "Need me to come with?"

Shaking his head, he leaned his head against her hand, "Nah, I've got this, Ally-Cat."

"You sure? Just say the word, man, and we're gone," I pushed.

He looked at me for a long moment before shaking his head. "I gotta do this on my own."

"Come on, Em." Alice smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door. "I'll let you buy me some pie."

"Gee, Ally-Cat, you're so generous." Emmett smiled weakly, letting her lead him through the back. He stopped, looked back over at me. "Thanks, man."

"I didn't do shit," I muttered.

Shaking his head, he turned and headed through the back with Alice. I stood up, taking a look around the empty bar before going over and flicking off all the lights. Grabbing my helmet, I headed out, locking the door behind me. Turning, I was startled when I saw Bella sitting on an overturned bucket and leaning against that wall. She looked up at me, eyes wider than they had been last night.

Before I could say anything, she spoke. "Did you mean it?"

I could barely hear her words.

"What you said at the diner? Did you mean it?"

"Yes," I murmured. "What are you doing back here?"

"Waiting for you," she replied.

"Why didn't you come in?"

She looked from me to the door behind me, shaking her head. "I can't go back in there. Not yet."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. "It's dangerous out here."

She laughed. "It's dangerous in there."

"Sometimes," I admitted, grinning.

Bella turned away. "Why did you say that today?"

"I don't know, but I think it's true."

"It's not," she quipped, looking back at me and shivering. "It's chilly tonight."

"Where's your jacket?"

Bella shrugged her shoulders.

I stood up, moving over and offering her my hand. "Come on."

She placed her hand in mine. "Where are you taking me?"

I pulled her up and placed the helmet on her head. "It's a surprise."

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she followed me over to my bike. I straddled the machine, motioning for her to join me. Sliding her leg over, she climbed on and her arms around my torso. I sighed, covering her hands with mine.

"Hold on tight."

"As tight as I can," she whispered.

Her words seemed to hold double meanings, but I didn't press the issue. Kick starting my bike, I took off down the alley, and out onto the strip. Bella's arms tightened around me and I heard her squeal. I smiled and headed up to Exploration Peak, parking my bike at the base of the small mountain. Climbing off the bike, Bella handed me my helmet. I stowed it and led her up the mountain till we reached the top. Settling on one of the picnic tables, I watched as Bella stood a few feet away and looked over the strip. The city was alive, lit up with excitement and power.

Turning, she looked back at me.

"I've never been here before." She paused, turning back to the city, "Do you like living here, Edward?"

"It's okay," I replied. "Beats the hell out of Chicago."

Bella came over, sitting next to me. "I hate it here. It's too . . . I don't know, loud? Annoying? Bright? I just hate it."

I lay back on the table, looking at the dark sky. "Before I came here, I'd never seen stars."

"Seriously?"

I nodded, looking over at her.

"How is that possible?"

"I grew up in the city, surrounded by high-rises and skyscrapers," I muttered, shifting my gaze back to the sky. Bella lay back on the table next to me.

"I love the stars," she said, raising her hand and tracing them with her finger. "They're beautiful."

"I think so, too."

Looking over at her, I saw her smiling as she moved from one star to the other. Shifting her eyes over to me, she let her hands drop so that it rested on top of mine. Neither of us moved. All I could do was stare at her, memorizing each detail of her face. The few freckles sprinkled across her nose, the green specks in her eyes, and perfect curve of her lips. Weaving my fingers in with hers, I rolled onto my side, bringing my other hand up, stroking her cheek.

"Edward," she breathed, turning into my hand. "Did you mean it?"

"Yes," I whispered, just as breathless as she was. "Every word."

"You don't know me," she whimpered.

"I want to know you," I murmured, brushing her lips with my thumb.

Lifting her eyes up to mine, she frowned. "You shouldn't want to know me."

"But I do." I sighed, leaning away from her. "I don't know why I am so drawn to you, Bella."

"Me either," she muttered, pulling her hand from mine and sitting up. "I have to go. I'm going to be late for work."

"Okay."

Bella and I made our way back down the mountain, and climbed back onto my bike. She held on tighter this time when I drove us through the city, following her directions back to her apartment. I pulled up in front of a trashy building, and cut the engine. Bella climbed off the back, and handed me my helmet.

"Thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome," I laughed. "I hadn't been up there in a while. It was nice to go back."

She nodded, shifting her eyes down to her feet. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

"Soon, I hope," I blurted out like an idiot.

Bella smiled, looking up at me.

"I'll come by the diner. Maybe get some more pie, or cookies."

"Sounds good," she murmured, pulling on her bottom lip. Leaning over, she brushed her lips across my cheek. "Thanks."

Before I could say anything, Bella turned and took off into the building. I looked up and saw Carlisle looking down from the second floor window. Looking away, I pulled my helmet on, and headed to my apartment. Tossing my keys and helmet into the floor, I sat down in front of my piano, and started playing, letting the music flow out of my fingers.

**Thanks again for all the support! I love reading your reviews, even if I don't always get a chance to reply to them.**


	8. Chapter 8

BPOV

When I got up to my apartment, I found Carlisle leaning against the front window, watching Edward drive off. I expected to get the third degree, or at least to have him tease me, but he didn't do either. He looked back at me, a small smile resting on his lips.

Coming over, he kissed the top of my head. "I'm working a double today."

"Be careful today. You know I worry." Fisting the front of his shirt, I pleaded with him. My nerves were on overdrive from everything that had happened today. I couldn't explain why Edward's words hit me so hard; maybe I didn't really want to. "Please, Car."

"I promise," he whispered, tilting my head up. "He's different, isn't he?"

"I don't know," I replied, honestly not knowing. "But he feels different."

"Just be cautious, Bell. You don't know him."

"Trust me, I am," I mumbled.

Kissing my forehead, Carlisle left.

I rushed to get ready for work, stripping off the jeans and T-shirt I'd thrown on after work, and putting on a clean, fresh uniform. By the time I got to the diner, I was running ten minutes late. Mr. Call tapped his fingers on his watch, like he was warning me. I snorted and grabbed my apron from under the counter, tying it around my waist, and picked up my order pad.

"You're late, Isabella," he grumbled, when I started a fresh pot of coffee, knowing just how long the pot had been sitting there. Louisa didn't do a damn thing when she covered the night shift.

"Am I?" I smirked, placing my hand on my hip. "Hmm, maybe you should fire me and hire someone else to take care of this dump?"

"Maybe I should," he mumbled, turning back to the register.

Jasper's nervous laughter came rattling through the small serving window leading into the kitchen. Catching his eye, I winked before turning and heading out to cover my tables. Mr. Call muttered something about me being a bitch, but I let it go. It wasn't anything I hadn't been told every day of my life. Nothing I didn't know to be true, either.

Grumbling about us being pains in his ass, Mr. Call left just after the breakfast rush started pouring through the front door, leaving me and Jasper to handle them all. If I hadn't been expecting it, I would have been pissed as all fucking hell, but he had raised Embry, after all. Ignoring him, I returned to my tables, refilling everyone's drinks and taking a dozen orders.

Just after ten, the door to the diner opened. Looking over my shoulder, I smiled when the old man came shuffling in, muttering about the heat. I scribbled down his order, slipping it across the counter to Jasper before grabbing the coffee pot and a clean cup. Setting it on the table, I poured him some fresh coffee. The old man winced when he slid his arm across the table, grabbing the sugar.

"You okay, old man?" I wondered, placing my hand on his shoulder.

Freezing for half a second, he ignored my touch and dumped several spoonfuls into his cup. His eyes drooped more than usual and his lips hung a little to the left. Sliding into the booth across from him, I bent down to look him in the eye.

"You don't look good."

"I didn't ask ya," he griped, turning his eyes away and picking his cup up. "Where's my damn food?"

Sighing, I stood up, patting his shoulder. "It's coming, old man. Don't I always take care of you?"

"Hmph," he hummed, shrugging my hand off of him.

I refilled a handful more coffee cups before heading back around the counter and grabbing the six plates that were ready. We were unusually busy for the start of the week, which could only mean one thing: the casino made it big last night. Shaking my head at the sheer stupidity of some people, I refilled another round of coffee, apologizing for taking so long. Most everyone seemed understanding — including the old man — but not everyone seemed to feel the same way.

"It's about goddamn time," a heavy set, red haired man muttered, when I set his plate down. Unrolling his silverware, he grunted. "My eggs had better not be cold."

"They're not," I assured him, turning to walk away.

I had barely taken a handful of steps when I heard a loud crash. Turning around, I found his plate on the floor, broken in two pieces. Not a sound could be heard as I looked up from the food to the man, who had stood up.

"Was there a problem with your food, sir?"

"Yeah, it was late," he snarled, kicking one of the pieces toward me. I stepped out of the way before it hit my leg. "And cold."

"I — Is t — there a problem?" Jasper stammered, coming up behind me.

Red snorted, noticing his slight limp. "Yeah, this stupid little bitch —"

"Don't call her a bitch," Jasper spat, pulling me behind him.

Shifting my eyes up to the back of his neck, I saw scars leading up out of his shirt, disappearing into his hairline. Before I realized what I was doing, I reached up and ran my fingers along one of the scars, feeling the ridged skin under my fingers tips. Inhaling sharply, Jasper looked over his shoulder at me, his eyes filled with pain and sorrow. With a slight shake of his head, he faced Red again. What the hell had happened to Jasper?

"I think you need to leave," Jasper ordered, taking half a step back and wrapping his arm around me. I clutched onto the back of his shirt, feeling both our bodies trembling.

"Why don't you make me, gimp?" Red taunted, raising an eyebrow at him.

Before Jasper could do or say anything, the door to the dinner swung open and Sam came in, still dressed in his work uniform. At almost six and a half feet, Sam towered over most men. Add in his well-built body, dark no-nonsense eyes, and large, powerful hands, and only an idiot would mess with him. Taking in the situation, Sam looked from me, to Jasper, to Red, and finally to the food on the floor. Lifting his head back up, he turned back to me.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, making it clear he wanted the truth.

"He," I whispered, hearing the tremor of fear in my voice, "got upset and threw his food on the floor."

My body shook, fearing the confrontation springing up in front of me. Rattling inside my head, I could hear _him _screaming at me for being stupid and lazy, for being a disappointment. I shuddered, swallowing the scream that threatened to leave my mouth.

Sam's eyes hardened when he looked back at Red. "Yeah? You think it's okay to come in here and act like a jackass, tossing your shit around?"

"I didn't," Red muttered, either realizing he'd been behaving like a jerk or that Sam could beat the shit out of him.

Sam walked behind the counter, picked up the broom and dustpan, and thrust them at him. "Clean it."

"No," Red scoffed, turning to walk out the door. In a breath, Sam had him pinned against the wall, nostril's flaring. "Get the fuck off of me."

"Clean it, or I'll make you eat it right off the motherfucking floor," Sam threatened. Then he threw him down and kicked the broom and dustpan at him. "What's it gonna be?"

Glaring at me, Red scrambled to his feet, picked up the broom and dustpan, and cleaned up his mess. Dropping them onto the floor, he brushed passed Sam, letting the door slam shut behind him. Sam picked them up and took them back behind the counter before taking a seat at the counter and picking up a menu. Slowly making my way around the counter, I took a deep breath and tried to comprehend what had just happened here.

"It's just me today, Bella." Sam smiled, looking over the menu. "Emily took the girls to see her mom for a couple of days. Bridget made me promise to come see you, though. Told me to tell Miss Bella that she's gonna miss you."

"Oh, um, well, I'm gonna miss her, too." Unsure of what else to say, I laid my order pad on the counter. "Sam —"

"I'll take my usual," he said, reaching over and giving my hand a gentle squeeze, as if to tell me it's okay, he understood. "Tell your boy in there, I'm not in a hurry. Get all these people fed first, ya hear me?"

Nodding, I blinked back the burning tears creeping at the edge of my eyes. "Thanks, Sam."

I turned in his order, conveying his message to Jasper, who refused to meet my eyes, but managed to get two more tables' food ready. It took me nearly half an hour, but I got everyone their food, apologizing again to each and every one of them. More than one of them assured me I had nothing to apologize for, but I disagreed. I seemed to have a knack for causing problems. The three- inch scar on my upper arm confirmed just that.

Once I cleared a couple of tables, I headed over to the old man's table, knowing he'd left in the frenzy. Lying on his table was a fifty dollar bill, with a ten on top. On one of the napkins he had scribbled, a note: _**You're better than this dump, girl, but please don't leave me. **_

Tracing my fingers over the words, I allowed a tear travel down my face. That cranky, old man wanted me. One of only two people who'd ever ask me not to leave, the other being Edward.

"Bella, I'm gonna head out," Sam announced, dusting his shirt off and standing up. "If that asshole comes back, give me a holler, okay? I wrote my number on my ticket. Promise me you'll call."

"I promise," I muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

Nodding, he left, leaving just me, Jasper, and a handful of people. Shoving the old man's note in my pocket, I went back to work.

—SMTS—

By the middle of the afternoon, Jasper and I had managed to make it through the lunch rush and get the place stocked for the evening and night shifts. With nothing else to do inside the kitchen, he settled into one of the booths, facing out so that he could bend his knees in front of him. His pants rose up, showing one red and one blue sock.

"Nice socks," I commented.

He looked up from his book, lips twitching into a smile. "Thanks," he murmured. "Couldn't find their matches."

"They're cool." I smiled.

He shrugged his shoulders, dropping his eyes back to his book. Taking a deep breath, I climbed off the counter and walked over to the booth where he was sitting. I noticed his eyes shifted to me for a split second before going back to his book.

"I have a scar."

Breath hitching, he looked at me.

Pulling the sleeve on my uniform up, I showed him the three inch scar on my arm. "See."

He nodded. "What did you do?"

Frowning, I bit my lip. "I didn't do what was expected of me."

"What's that mean?" he drawled.

Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I wish I had never said anything.

"Um," I stammered, bringing my hand up to my chest. "Just what I said. People expected me to be . . . well, better, than what I am, and . . ."

Closing my eyes, I flinched, hearing the angry voice raging through my head again. _Worthless piece of shit, you never do a goddamn thing right._

"Me either," Jasper mumbled.

Snapping my eyes open, I saw him watching me with wide, fearful eyes.

"I, um . . ." His words hung in the air when he reached up to the neck of his shirt, pulling it down just enough for me to see half a dozen scars wrapping up and over his shoulder. "I guess I don't listen very well."

"Me either," I whispered.

Scrambling out of the booth, Jasper closed his book and shuffled into the kitchen, leaving me sitting there all alone.

—SMTS—

By the time the end of my shift came around, I was exhausted. I'd been up for more than thirty-six hours already, but even with as tired as I was, I couldn't seem to sleep. I lay in my bed, staring at the white, popcorn ceiling in my bedroom, thinking about Edward. To be honest, he'd been on my mind all day, every day since he came stumbling into the diner.

Throwing the blankets off of me, I climbed out of bed, and headed into the kitchen, starting a fresh pot of coffee. Once it was ready, I poured myself a cup and settled down in front of my canvas, staring at the painting I'd been working on for days. Bits and pieces were starting to come out, but I couldn't even make out what exactly I was painting. I didn't really care, either. For the first time in months, I'd been able to paint anything.

My front door swung open. I looked back to see Carlisle walk in with a huge bouquet of daisies.

"Where the hell did you get those?" I barked, dropping my brush back into my paints.

"They were outside the building with your name on them." He smirked and thrust them at me. "There's a card."

"Who the fuck would send me flowers?" I muttered, placing them on the floor and pulling out the card, which had been opened already. "Did you fucking read this?"

"Yep," he laughed, flopping down on the couch with a lazy grin covering his face. Rolling my eyes, I pulled the card out of the envelope.

**Sorry, I couldn't stop by. I had some things come up, but I missed you, Bella. More than I want to admit to myself. I hope to see you soon, Edward**

Feeling my face heat up, I tucked the card back into the envelope, before placing it back inside the flowers. Sensing Carlisle's eyes on me, I tried to ignore him when I took the flowers into the kitchen and added some water to the vase.

"Oh, yeah, he's different for sure," Carlisle snickered.

"Yeah, I think he is, too," I admitted, mostly to myself.

**Thanks again for all the support! I love reading your reviews, even if I don't always get a chance to reply to them.**


	9. Note

So, I've made a decision. For the time being, I am taking a break from the fandom and from writing fan fiction. I really just can't handle the stress and pressure of updating my stories, while trying to get my book written, too. And this book is the only thing I can manage to write right now. It's singing to me, begging o be written, but every time I get a PM or a review asking me when I am going to update, I feel guilty for not being able to do it all at the same time. It's causing me to suffer physically, and emotionally. I'm finding myself becoming angry and butter over a something that I love! So, I hope that you'll understand.

Please don't review this AN, as I will be deleting it and replacing it when I get a new chapter written.


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